Maybe Later, or Maybe Not
by 08joanna
Summary: Immediately post "Teamwork," House ruminates on Cuddy, Lucas and the challenges of honesty.


House leaned on the balcony railing and saw Cuddy and Lucas walking together below. Lucas stroked a hand across her dark hair and then settled it on her shoulder, as Cuddy warmly smiled at him. House stared at them, but they were in a world of their own and never looked up or noticed him watching. A knot formed in his stomach at the sight, rivaled only by the anger building in his chest. Why did this matter so much to him? Why did he let himself get this upset by it, upset to the point where he'd reverted back to old habits and done more harm to other people? He hadn't really meant to break up Chase and Cameron, figuring that might happen in any event when the truth came out but taking no joy in playing a part in it. He did intentionally manipulate Taub, Thirteen and Chase, though, and their decision to return to his team would likely cause personal problems for all of them. Rachel Taub couldn't be too pleased about it, for one thing, and Thirteen would have to look at Foreman every day and remember how he'd rudely fired her before. As for Chase, House knew he'd done damage that might never be repaired. But it was Chase's choice, right? House couldn't be blamed for something Chase did to himself, could he?

He felt like he needed to talk all of this out with Nolan, or at least with Wilson, but what to say, after acting like none of it mattered to him? The truth was, the thought of losing Cuddy forever, even though she'd never really been his to lose, was devastating. Through all those horrible days at Mayfield, even when he'd found some temporary happiness with Lydia, it was the thought of Cuddy that kept him going. The thought that she'd be waiting for him when he got back made the whole ordeal bearable and gave him a reason to keep trying to stay sober and take some steps toward the attitude changes he knew he needed to make. And he'd felt like he was making progress. He'd found it easier lately to be a decent friend to Wilson, for instance, and was less angry and sad than he used to be whenever thoughts of his father entered his mind. He was even able to remember Amber and Kutner now with some humor and fondness, rather than only with guilt and remorse. But the thought of Cuddy with Lucas, and the fact that she'd obviously shared with him every morbid detail of House's breakdown, was ramping up his anger again, which in turn ramped up his pain. He knew it was a toxic emotion, damaging to both his mind and body. Maybe Cameron was right about him – maybe he was poison, both to himself and to everyone in his orbit.

Wilson came up behind him, unseen and unheard, and tapped House on the shoulder. Cuddy and Lucas were out of sight by now, so Wilson wondered why House was just standing there looking down.

"Ready to head home?" Wilson asked.

House was momentarily startled, but then turned to look at Wilson and said, "Yeah, I guess."

Wilson squinted at House with that patented 'trying to figure out your mood' look, and asked "What's wrong, House? What were you just thinking?"

Ah, here it was. The chance to be honest with his best friend, to follow Nolan's advice and share his feelings so as to better deal with them. He wanted to be honest with Wilson; he really did. He wanted to try verbalizing all the myriad upsetting and confusing thoughts that the sight of Cuddy and Lucas together had triggered. But this wasn't the time or place for that, he thought, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to show Wilson that much vulnerability. Maybe later. Maybe when they were back at Wilson's place. Or maybe not.

He couldn't do it. In some vital way, he needed Wilson to think that everything was okay with him, even if that was far from the truth. So, sarcasm was the way to go, another reliable old standby from the old days.

"Nothing you need to obsess about, Wilson."

"Your expression doesn't look like it was nothing," Wilson replied.

"Please don't say 'You can talk to me' again. It's practically become your mantra, for God's sake."

Wilson put his hands up and stepped back, as though protecting himself from House's wrath. "Okay, okay – back off, big guy. I'm just saying, it wouldn't have to be a mantra if you'd listen to it once in a while and actually talk to me."

"I'm fine, Wilson."

"Yeah, like that's not **your **mantra."

House scowled at him for a moment, but then pushed away from the railing and said "Let's get out of here."

As they fell into step together on the way out, House suddenly realized that he was grateful for Wilson's presence. Even if total honesty was beyond him right now, Wilson wasn't going anywhere, and that was a comforting thought.


End file.
